


Miss Smith, You're Trying to Seduce Me

by reverse_the_jellybaby



Category: Sarah Jane Adventures
Genre: Bondage, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29018016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reverse_the_jellybaby/pseuds/reverse_the_jellybaby
Summary: [re-upload from Tumblr, circa 2013]Furious at Mrs Wormwood's apathy at her punishments, Sarah opts for a different method. Bondage ensues.
Relationships: Sarah Jane Smith/Mrs Wormwood (Sarah Jane Adventures)
Kudos: 4





	Miss Smith, You're Trying to Seduce Me

**Author's Note:**

> 18 years old me did this for the girls and the gays!!!!! I'm not going to lie, out of all the smut I wrote in my teens, this is the one I'm most proud of. It's completely shameless, filthy and surprisingly still pretty accurate (gee, wonder why?). It's my smut masterpiece. I may upload the tiny sequel I wrote to this, which ironically was the idea that sparked this entire story off. The way I thought I was vanilla while I was writing this shit though...
> 
> Once again, this is the original fic, unedited, with embarrassing shit left intact. I've got one more old fic to upload, and then that's all the og stuff! Prepare for new content soon! I can't stop writing right now.

Intimidation wasn’t going to be Sarah’s best bet.

The only thing running through her mind was anger. Pure, unadulterated hatred. She wanted to fuck with Earth? Well, she’d chosen the wrong path to cross.

She’d have to think of something else…

***

Clad with nothing but a smirk, Mrs Wormwood marvelled at such a multipurpose garment of clothing as it was tied around her human form to her desk chair, the sleeves securing her wrists to the arms of the chair.

‘Puny humans,’ she mused, ‘Why not settle for a more efficient method of extermination, instead of beating around the bush?’

“A no-nonsense woman I see, Miss Smith. Do you really think this is going to benefit you?” She raised a well-groomed eyebrow towards the Smith woman.

For that comment, the bonds were adjusted; made so tight that the blood rushed from her human hands. She elicited a throaty sigh, shutting her eyes to enjoy the sensation.

“Of course it will benefit me - I get to watch you squirm.”

There wasn’t a shred of remorse in the Smith woman’s voice as the words were ground out through her teeth; her lip curling as the final word was snarled.

“In fact -” she started, hastily glancing across the room in search of something to achieve her objective. With no such luck, she growled, slammed her handbag on the desk, oblivious to the exquisite glass vase that had spectacularly smashed to the ground, yanking at her leather bag strap - ripping it off cleanly in one swoop with her bare hands and grinding out obscenities at rapid fire she wouldn’t dare let those children hear.

Mrs Wormwood, however, seemed thoroughly unfazed as the freshly torn strap was held out to her; her human method of intimidation. How quaint, she thought.

She smirked and made direct eye contact with the fuming older woman, “Really, Miss Smith. You’re trying to seduce me.“

That earned an impromptu whip across the thigh, the hard contact of skin and leather almost deafening to the ears.

Nothing. Sarah was beside herself with infuriation.

In fact, she could’ve sworn she’d seen her counterpart’s lips part slightly, pupils dilated with sheer lust. Something completely different was on her mind.

Perhaps she could try another tactic…

"Spread your legs for me,” she ordered.

Mrs Wormwood did as she was told without missing a beat. They did not break eye contact for a single second.

She sauntered towards her prey; circled her, sporadically running the leather strap between her legs, her arms, her nipples. She kept herself entertained by her adversary writhing against the bonds as she carefully spaced out her touches.  
The light sensation left her breathing erratic, body arching back and practically begging for more. Every breath steadily became a small whimper. The Smith woman bit her lip, pleased with her counterpart’s sudden obedience. Had she gotten the picture?

She leant in very close, breath mingling in the empty space between them, the moment suddenly rather tender, as if she was going to caress her. She grabbed her face and forced it in the opposite direction. She wasn’t even going to look at her - didn’t want to look at her as she grazed her teeth against her neck, just darting her tongue against her adversary’s soft flesh; the sensation teetering on satisfaction, which left her adversary’s breath erratically dancing against the side of Sarah’s neck.

“I don’t want to hear you, Mrs Wormwood. Not a peep, am I clear?” She whispered.  
Nothing.  
She retracted swiftly away from her intimate stance.  
“Am…I…clear?!”  
Another whip to her adversary’s thigh.  
“Fuck…” Mrs Wormwood gasped, her obscenity sealed with a moan.

Sarah assumed she’d gotten the picture.

At lightning speed, she was trailing her again, twirling the strap in her hand. She was the predator, Mrs Wormwood was the prey. She had to admit she enjoyed the role reversal.

“What are you going to do to me, Miss Smith? Take your pick.” She taunted.

She answered her query by retracing her path down her adversary’s neck - very lightly; teasing her. There wasn’t any fun in satisfaction. Down towards the valley between her breasts, she felt her counterpart heave and shudder. Further and further she went, and just as she was hovering above her centre, she stopped, knowing it was exactly what she wanted; what she expected.

She parted her lips and blew; just a hint, and detracted again. Mrs Wormwood growled in frustration.

“Well, that makes two of us,” she muttered, her pitch switching to a taunting tone, “you didn’t honestly think I was about to hand that to you on a platter, Mrs Wormwood?“

"I should’ve known, Miss Smith. I should’ve known you weren’t going to…” She gasped, still fighting the strength of the bonds so she could rectify her infuriating ignorance of what she desired.

Sarah arched an equally well-groomed eyebrow straight back at her.

“Oh? Going to what, Mrs Wormwood? Make love to you? Ravish you? Or is ‘fuck you senseless’ the phrase you’re looking for?” Her tone was harsh and unforgiving, obscenities articulated and revelled in.

“Please…” She pleaded.

“Hmm, what’s that? Please what?”

“I want you to…”

“Want me to what? Tell me. Articulate it to me.”

“I…” She stuttered; unusual for her.

“Oh don’t bullshit me, Mrs Wormwood. There’s no use in playing coy now.”

“I want you in me. Now.”

“That’s more like it! See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Her words bordered condescension.

She maintained eye contact with her adversary as she returned to fill the void between them, lazily tracing unrecognisable patterns on the insides of her thighs, her index fingers slowly progressing closer to her centre. Her peripherals registered her counterpart’s chest heaving up and down; a plea. She wouldn’t have that.

She would have to work for her orgasm.

She gave her thigh a firm squeeze and halted - her adversary groaned in frustration again.

“You have to tell me what you want before I go any further, only then will I go further.”

Her voice was now low and controlled; it may have very well been lust, but she wouldn’t swear to it.

“Fingers…”

A burst of incredulous laughter came from the Smith woman’s mouth, “Fingers? What on earth are you talking about?“

"Your fingers…inside me. Fuck me with them.” She clarified.

“Hmm, not a bad plan.” Sarah pondered, moistening two fingers and her thumb in her mouth.

She teased her opening with a slow circular motion of her fingers, with her thumb on her clit in the opposite direction. Her breathing became shallow and laboured underneath her motions as two fingers pulsed inside her.

“Faster…go faster…please…” She gasped.

She obliged - Mrs Wormwood writhed and moaned as the motions became faster and faster - she was close already; she could feel her body convulsing, seizing, sweating - euphoria was but a touch away when the pleasure simply stopped. She exhaled loudly and was left shivering and panting.

**  
She couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d been lying there - trembling in her own arousal, shivers occasionally travelling down her spine - desperately racking her brain for arousing thoughts, eyes shut in order to concentrate. She wondered when that next merciful touch would come when a low moan rang out in earshot - it was not her own. She wrenched her eyes open - and she’d found the culprit.

The Smith woman pressed her free hand against her breast as she rapidly pulsed exquisitely skilled fingers against her own clit, writhing in her chair - quick sharp cries piercing the air, getting louder and louder as her show reached its climax. Her body beckoned, arched and collapsed; a sigh resounding as her body became limp. She licked her fingers clean of fluid, making sure Mrs Wormwood had seen her lips smacking against them. She twitched and sighed, her hands struggling against the bonds.

“Are you quite finished?” She growled.

“I just hope you enjoyed my little show, Mrs Wormwood.” She said, still catching her breath, simultaneously freeing her hands from the bonds, “And now it’s your turn. Give me a show.“

Oh.

She wanted a show? She’d get one.

Mrs Wormwood knew what she was playing at as she ran her right hand lightly against her nipples, staring directly at the show of lace where Sarah’s dress was bunched, stockings halfway down her legs, which were at eye level. She bit her lip, running her hand further down, and down, making sure Sarah was watching as one hand made a beckoning motion against her G-spot, the other frantically working itself against her clit. Her lips parted and her soft pants were permitted to roam free. She moaned - purposefully loudly, and Sarah had to bite her lip to avoid joining her show. Her hips instinctively gyrated against her fingers, a sheen of sweat building across her body as she panted against gritted teeth. She felt her climax beginning once more - this time she made a point not to stop. She shut her eyes as her orgasm consumed her - the final explosive sounds of pleasure filling the office space from top to bottom. She opened her eyes to the Smith woman’s lustful expression boring into her.

"I think I’ve made my point, don’t you think, Miss Smith?” She breathed.

A loud exhale escaped Sarah’s ever-so-slightly parted lips. That was left open to interpretation as she turned on her heels and simply walked off; adjusting her dress and trying to pull her stockings back up; leaving her counterpart trembling in her own fluids, still clad with nothing but that same smirk.

With a sweet, innocent pink cardigan, of course.


End file.
